


Words on Paper and Love in Our Eyes

by Cup_of_Lou



Series: Just a Moment in Our Time [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, First Meetings, Harry and Louis have to deal with his flusterings, Liam is super fucking hot, M/M, One Shot, Zayn works at his tattoo parlor, just a kind of different fic, we need some Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:08:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cup_of_Lou/pseuds/Cup_of_Lou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s this?” Harry asked before he took it from me to bring it closer to his face, looking at the drawing then back at Zayn with the same question placed in his mind as was in mine.</p>
<p>“This,” he pointed a shaking finger at the paper that harry had in his hand, “the  hipster, stereotypical tattoo I’ve done hundreds of times before, was the tattoo I did on some guy who could possibly be the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.” Now his shaky movements made complete sense to me, and I tried my best not to scoff.</p>
<p>(Or where Zayn meets Liam in the form of a hipster tattoo and only knows him as Li)<br/>My tumblr is http://cup-of-lou.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words on Paper and Love in Our Eyes

“It’s not that hard, just point and shoot.” Harry was gentling holding the camera between the two of us, aiming its lense at a coffee-stained mug that a customer had just returned. It looked to be a pretty picture, very hipster in my mind. “You just need the perfect angle, and-” He clicked the shutter button to take the picture, “bam. Photography at its finest.”

I groaned, thrusting the camera fully back into his hands with hidden disgust, “This is your forte babe, I can’t even handle doing selfies properly. I don’t see why you even bothered trying to teach me when it’s just going in one ear and out the other.” I looked around the shop once more, content with the lack of patrons filling the worn leather booth as I continued to goof around with him.

Harry told me this was normal, that the middle of the day was when the shop was the most empty, and he wasn’t lying. There were only three people, a couple who seemed to be in their own little world and a guy who was on his third cup of coffee with a blank essay on his table. We had been goofing off for hours now, multiple cups of tea and cookies later.

“Lou its not even that big of a skill, more just understand of how things work.” He put the camera back in its case with a careless shrug, hiding it back beneath the counter. He kept it for times like this, when his hipster mind was stirring and he needed an outlet to express himself through.

“Yeah, well then it turns out I lack that skill too.” I snarked, taking a generous sip of my own tea that had started growing cold. “How about you stick to your amazing photography and I’ll stick to music, hmm?”

“You call your horrendous singing in the shower /music/?” His smile had spread over his face as he made his usual witty comebacks. He looked hilarious, his untameable curls pulled back with an old shirt he had folded into a bandana and his face full of the shit-eating grin he usually always had.

“And you think yours is much better?” I grew my own shit-eating smile as I retorted my comeback. He was used to my sass by now, my comment rolling off of him as he rolled his eyes.

“Mine is amazing, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He sneaked the pastry cabinet open to steal a cupcake he had made earlier in the day, licking off the icing from the side. “I am the next Beyonce and no one can tell me differently.” And as if to tease me even further, he took a provocative lick of the icing before softly singing ‘all the single ladies’ low enough so only I could hear it.

“Oh my god.” I hid my reddening face in my hands, hopefully quieting my loud snickers at him. I was thankful that the blood was rushing upwards instead of the other direction at this point. “I’m dating a mental stripper.”

“Oi.” His voice was suddenly close to my ear, close enough that I squeaked in surprise. He was looming over me with his green eyes dangerously close and lustfully dark, “I may be mental, but we both know I’m the best damn stripper you’ve ever seen.”

“I-” I was cut off by the bell to the front door and I breathed a sigh of relief. Harry stopped his actions immediately, putting the cupcake down to attend to the customer as I uncovered my eyes. His face turned from his seductive smirk to a bright and chipper smile, he even stood a little straighter.

“Oh, hey Zayn.” And as if a switch went off, he returned to his original stance. His back slumped, smile turned to more a soft grin, and he returned to making out with the cupcake.

“I never thought I would live to see the day that I would be be thankful for some stupid stereotypical tattoo.” Zayn rushed over to the front counter, slapping a piece of crumpled paper onto the counter with a loud thwap. His face was red and eyes wide with a different emotion than his usual neutral look, his breath ragged.

“Did you just...what the fuck?” I started, my face contorted into a questionable look that Harry reciprocated, “Did you just run here from the shop?”

“I did. But that doesn’t matter for shit, look at the paper!” His voice was raised enough for it to resonate throughout the shop, the frazzled college student in the corner looking up with startled eyes before focusing back on his work.

I still had my eyebrow raised as I took the paper with caution, holding it so both Harry and I could see it. On it was a crudely drawn feather and a quote that read ‘You don’t hold me down anymore’ in messy writing. Not Zayn’s writing, that was for sure, and it looked to be on the back of a shopping list.

“What’s this?” Harry asked before he took it from me to bring it closer to his face, looking at the drawing then back at Zayn with the same question placed in his mind as was in mine.

“This,” he pointed a shaking finger at the paper that harry had in his hand, “the  hipster, stereotypical tattoo I’ve done hundreds of times before, was the tattoo I did on some guy who could possibly be the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.” Now his shaky movements made complete sense to me, and I tried my best not to scoff.

“You fancy a bloke you doodled on?” I clarified with less love-stricken words, looking over at Harry from the corner of my eye to see he was just as smitten as I was. “And now you think you’ve seen the re-incarnated christ of your wet dreams?”

“Basically,” He sucked in a deep breath before exhaling it with a sound of regret, “Yeah.”

“And did you get wet-dreams jesus’ name?” Harry pulled over a stool from the back wall to sit next to me, balling up the paper and throwing it lamely at Zayn. “Not that I think wet-dreams jesus is a bad name.” He looked over the customers before taking out his phone to occupy himself with god knows what. I turned back to Zayn, waiting for the hysterical, heart-eyed boy to continue.

“Yes.” He shook his head fiercely before he gained a look that told me the gears in his head were backtracking. “Well, I think I did. He just told me Li, and then proceeded to tap away on his phone for the whole appointment. For all I know his name could be Liroy or something, hell, he could be a Linus.” Zayn physically deflated at that, running a messy hand through his hair as he slumped against the counter. I could feel his pain to some degree, I would hate for a hot guy to have a name regarded to grandpa’s and nerds.

“How hot was he?” I knew it was a stupid question just as soon as it left my mouth. Zayn was hysterical over the guy, he had to have some angelic features, “Like are we talking wet-dreams christ of god-sculpin faces kind of hot, or wet-dreams as in sexy firefighter who could lift you while vacuuming a rug?” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for such a well rounded scale system I had made.

“Both. Well, more the firefighter.” Zayn rubbed his face again and let out a deep sigh, like he was trying to breathe through the images of the hot guys. “He was like the firefighter who saves you from a burning building, but then goes home to a kitten orphanage and nurses injured kittens.”

“So, like the buff but innocent vibe?” Harry scooted his stool closer to the counter as he started to take off the cupcake wrapper, his phone forgotten on his thigh as he ravaged the baked good.

“Yeah, like that. He had these brown eyes, like I was having trouble with my tools when he was just there, and looking at me with them I felt like I was going to faint.” Zayn was using vague hand motions that came very close to hitting me in the face and I made sure that my gruntles of disgust were loud enough for him to hear, “And his arms, he got the feather on his inner right arm and the quote on the outer left, like I swear if he flexed his arm would just explode. And his voice was just so suave, so deep, I was just-”

“Yeah, we get it,” I interrupted as I stole a bite of Harry’s cupcake with little complaint, “He was walking sex that you wanted to ride into the sunset. But didn’t you look at his information on his sheet? Stalk him that way?”

Zayn looked at me with a sort of disgustful confusion that I felt offended by, “What sheet?” Had he really forgotten about his ‘sit down and fill this out’ sheet? He had complained for weeks about the sheet, how it filled up his small office in the back of the shop. How could he have forgotten?

“You know, the sheet you make people fill out so you don't get sued by other people? The one you had to buy that filing cabinet for?” He was still lost by the blank stare I was recieving, “It has peoples insurance, phone numbers, addresses, the tattoo they wanted, and more importantly, their /real names/. You basically have all his contact info at your fingertips.” I took the final sip of tea, eyeing Zayn in hopes that he would finally connect all the dots.

“Holy fuck.” His blank stare turned to one of bafflement as he stood up straighter. It was funny how determined he looked, and over something like a guy I found it mocking-worthy, “I am fucking mental.”

“Took you long enough to realize.” Harry laughed from where his face was buried into his phone, “What are you still doing here then? Go get your wet-dream!” He used his free hand to shoo Zayn away, with that movement being the only action that actually snapped him into action.

“I’m too stupid.” He muttered as he turned around towards the door. “Thanks lads, I’ll text you how it goes.” He threw his words over his shoulder as he pushed open the doors. No one was paying him attention any more, and the shop soon returned to its quiet aura like it had before he came in with his guy troubles.

“Guy problems.” I mumbled with a shake of my head, taking my empty cup to the sink. “I’m glad I don't have them. Right bothers, they are.” I rinsed the mug out so I could fill it again with another cup of tea, scoffing silently at how absurd they are. I mean, any pining at all was horrendous to watch, but with Zayn it was kind of like reality was taking back a sliver of his perfection.

“Babe, I am your guy troubles.” Harry scoffed, the small sounds of his phone keyboard clicking away incisively. I could tell he was half-into our conversation, half-into his instagram doing god knows what.

“Yeah, but you’re not really a trouble anymore,” I turned on the instant water heater the coffee shop had, “You’re more like a buzzing nat that /sometimes/ irritates me. I’ve grown used to your buzzing.”

“Oh, so now I’m a bug?” His eyes rose from his phone, giving me his ‘you-are-absolutely-infuriating-but-i-love-you-anyway’ look with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” His look fell to his kitten pout, “But a cute one!” I laughed at how he just rolled it off, turning back to his phone. He was the typical iphone-welding hipster, I thought as I pulled out our own stash of Yorkshire tea.

“Fine, whatever.” He mumbled where he thought I couldn’t hear. I pretended I didn’t.

“I feel like we should look up this Li character Zayns pining over.” I said conversationally as I slouched against the counter, staring at the instant-water heater like it would speed up how quick it boiled.

“You really want to get in the way of this?” He raised a single eyebrow in the silent-judging way he always would. “If he was this mental just talking about him, are you really wanting to see how he acts around this bloke?”

I thought it over while I tapped my nails on the wood. He was right, Zayn had been pretty hysterical over just a simple meeting, he would probably be a straight-jacket mess when he was actually in the presence of this Li guy.

“Zayn has some flirting skills, don’t you think?” I picked up the mug to mess with the tea-bag inside, swirling it around with childish enjoyment.

“He may be a vogue-model, but he has the flirting skills of a decapitated chicken.” Harry laughed at his analogy, locking his phone before turning back to me.

“True,” I shrugged as the hot water started to steam, “But I would still love to see him in a hysterical state over a guy, a firefighting animal fanatic guy at the least.” I flipped the switch to turn off the heater, pouring the water into my mug with little splashing.

“So, are we going now or what?” Harry stood and moved the chair out of the way, already knowing my answer.

“Let me just phone Niall to take over.”

 

* * *

 

 

The drive over to Zayns shop, which was very-inconveniently placed on the opposite side of town from the coffee house, was full of laughs and giddy theories of how the meeting would go. My theories edged more on the practical side, while Hazza, being the hopeless romantic he was, was going for more of the movie-scene meetups. Typical.

“Maybe it could start raining and Li is waiting for Zaynie with flowers! Wouldn’t that just be amazingly sweet? Like he would be all sad looking and Zayn would just jump into his arms and kiss him?” He was practically beaming with happiness over a meetup that may not even happen, it was adorable to say the least.

He /looked/ pretty damn adorable as well, his boot-clad feet resting on the dashboard as he hugged his knees to his chest as he bobbed his head along to the quiet radio. He was wearing his stupid shirt-bandana thing that kept back his unruly curls, which were in dire need of a haircut, and one of his band shirts that I had thrown at him on the way out of the house earlier this morning. He also insisted on bunching up his 6’2 body to fit his legs onto the dashboard, saying that it was proper passenger-seat etiquette to bundle yourself up. I had no clue where he got that idea from, because that was as far from the true ‘etiquette’ as it could have been. But I wasn't going to stop him now.

“Babe, look out the window,” He complied like the child he was, his head flinging to the side to look out the window, “There isn’t a cloud in the sky.” I pointed out, “I doubt that it would start down pouring in the five minutes it takes for us to get there.” He huffed at the true realisation, arms moving from around his knees to cross over his chest as he turned back to watching me drive.

“Just because it can’t happen doesn't mean you have to point it out, Lou.” He grumbled as I took the turn down Zayns shops road, “Sometimes I wish you were a tad bit more romantic.”

“Sorry babe, I'll get right on that.” I rolled my eyes, counting down the buildings before Zayn’s, under an apartment shop.

He was lucky enough to grab a commercial space seemingly close to a busy part of London, the only downside being the elderly couple above his place that consistently complained about the screams that came from his shop. It was a large, open area that served as the actual parlor with a spacious office in the back. Plus is had a seemingly spacious bathroom, which I have taken full advantage of on multiple occasions. Zayn also prided himself in keeping it nice, the ‘waiting room’ in front of the counter housing comfortable couches and chairs. along with the few drama magazines I would bring from home. Even the parlor itself was equipped with soft leather chairs and a bunch of tattoo art on the walls for people to look at.

“You better. I may drop you for someone who buys me chocolates and cologne and takes me on expensive dates all the time. You gotta step up your game Lou-Lou.” Harry chirped from his side, untucking his gangly limbs as we pulled into Zayns parking lot.

“You don't even like cologne.” I retorted, knowing for a fact that he hated the way it always got in his eyes and never smelt quite right. “You hate how it gets everywhere, and how it doesn’t smell good.”

“I like your cologne though.” He sasses, hopping out of the car once I had fully stopped and slamming the door shut for his dramatic effect. Drama queen, I thought as I pried open my door.

“But you never wear it. You just steal my clothes and hope that they still smell like it.” We both knew it was perfectly, 100% true. “Plus you always leave the room when I spray it.”

“I always have better things to do than watch you spray yourself with the cologne that I end up wearing anyway. Your clothes are always so comfortable.” He flashed me a toothy grin before hopping to my side and intertwining our fingers.

We walk towards the building with a relative silence, basking in the sun because there were only so many days where it wasn’t cloudy in London, you had to relish in the warmth. Harry had a hop in his step, I knew his inner romantic was going on hectic mode, and I had to quicken my pace just to keep up with him. But he was happy, uncontrollably so, and I was happy with giving him this.

“I really hope he has his shit together.” I say offhandedly as we grew closer to his building. “I really don't want to have to deal with the aftermath of this going horribly wrong.”

“I had to take care of him the last time he went haywire, if we go in there and he’s throwing a fit, it’s your turn to take care of him.” I remember that time, when Zayn had a one night stand with someone he wanted it to last with. He ended up getting horribly drunk and horrendously high, crying buckets over the event his mind was up-playing. Harry wasn’t happy about having to deal with it, I had had the night shift at the bakery that day, and he said that the tears mixed with puke absolutely ruined one of his favorite shirts.

“Yeah, I know it’s my turn. Hence why I don't want another replay of last time.” I took in one last cautionary breath before I pushed open the door to his shop.

The bell connected to the door rung obnoxiously, jingling far louder than it needed to be to signal that a customer had arrived. My nose was instantly met by the smell of cleaning alcohol and cigarette smoke, a familiar stench that always caught be my surprise whenever I paid Zayn a visit. Harry on the other hand, hated the way the smoke burned his nose, and was coughing slightly by my side. He pulled our hands apart so that he could plug his nose long enough for him to get used to the smell.

“Hello, welcome to Impetuous Ink, how can I- oh.” Perrie bolted out of the back office with surprising speed, fixing her hair and dress before realizing that it was only us in the front of the shop and not an actual customer. She deflated her act of happy-go-lucky customer helper and returned to her usual eye-rolling self. “It’s just you guys.”

“It is just us.” I laughed, watching her scuff her black boots on the ground before popping up behind her desk in the front of the shop. “Nice hair change by the way, I’m digging the purple.” She smiled, hands unconsciously running through her recently dyed lilac hair. She used to be a bleach blonde, but I liked the change. Very hipster.

“I did it last weekend, I needed a change.” She shrugged off the compliment as she started situating a stack of papers on her desk like she was looking for something. “And I’m guessing you two are here about the Li thing.” She tried again to fix her light pink dress, something that screamed flowerchild meets punk rock in the cutest way, before giving up with an exasperated huff and reorganizing the stack of papers she had just sifted through.

“Yeah, we were actually, but if you two were busy…” Harry was being coy, his smirk being delayed by how he was biting his lip. He must have noticed the way she was so dead-set on fixing her already perfect clothing, something that was a trademark for ‘just had sex in the back room’.

“Seriously Haz?” She groaned and shot him what must have been a death glare, but was tainted by affection, “Are you ever going to let me live down my one week hookup with him?” Earlier in the year she had made the bad mistake of pinning after Zayn while he was still undetermined about his sexuality. They were at it like rabbits for a time before Perrie realized that he was too set on anal to even realise that she was, in fact, a girl. She says she regrets it to this day, which I coin as being a lie.

“I don’t think I will.” He laughed and Perrie only gave him a frustrated sigh, hands running over her desk for something that she was clearly not finding.

“We didn’t just hook up in the back room Haz, so cool down your fantasy,” She groaned and started pulling open drawers, “I’m helping Zayn look for the form that Li filled out, he seems to have misplaced it and I swear he is going to lose hair by how hard he's pulling at it.”

“Seriously?” I whined, recognizing the sound of drawers slamming in the back room. Of course he had misplaced the most important sheet of this week, maybe his whole life if he fixated hard enough on this bloke.

“Yep,” She popped the P before turning away from her desk, “It’s not up here Zayn. I think you proper lost it!” She yelled towards the back and got a response of a strangled groan. Poor Zayn and his dream-boy driven antics.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He stormed out of the room, his usually perfectly styled quiff laying flat and dead on his forehead, “This one time, when I actually /need/ the damn sheet, I lose it? Are you fucking /kidding/ me?” He was slamming his feet down onto the ground like his temper-tantrum would change anything.

“Hi to you too Zayn.” He gave me a sickened scowl, turning around in the shop as his eyes were frantically searching the shop. “How are you today?”

“You fucking know how I fucking am, I just saw you like twenty minutes ago.” He had started looking under the chairs, like the sheet had floated down and landed, perfectly hidden, under one of them.

“Well I was just trying to make some small talk,” I grumbled, stifling the laugh that was bubbling up my throat at the sight of him. He was in absolute hysterics, like he was looking for lost treasure worth billions instead of a puny phone number.

“Well don’t,” He snapped, glaring at me as he went under a small table against the wall, “I’m too fucking done right now for your fucking small talk.” His words were muffled as he searched, feet sticking obnoxiously out of the small space.

Perrie groaned, “Let me go check in the back again, see if I can find it.” Perrie shot us a ‘do something’ flicker of her eyes before trudging off into the office before closing the door. I shared a puzzled look with Harry, not wanting to inch forward to Zayn’s aid. I wondered how we would handle this, how we would handle this new side of Zayn. I had never seen him this infatuated with a guy before, or this infatuated in general, and it was a  pleasant distraction from my boring day.

“I swear to god if I don't find that damn sheet-” He was cut short by the front door bell ringing, the small jingling getting all of our attentions. I turned at the same time as Harry, hearing Zayn hit his head on the table and release a set of swears as he jerked to get up and see the customer.

When I turned to look at the door, my eyes were met by Zayns god-gifted Li character. He matched Zayns analogy of ‘fire fighting kitten saviour’ perfectly, right down to the T. He had styled brown hair, short and cropped like a military issued haircut. His eyes were a warm, chocolate brown that shined with kindness and confusion, thick eyebrows pulled together at the sudden attention he was receiving.  He was definitely jacked, his arms toned even under the thick layer of his sweatshirt.

I could feel his stare being directed at me and my fly-catching mouth, but I couldn’t pull myself away from staring at him. I knew I was gaping, he looked like he stepped straight out of an Abercrombie catalog with his buffness. Harry sensed my gawking too, whining next to me with a gentle elbow to the ribs to try and regain my affection. I just wasn't done gawking yet.

“Hi.” He sounded clearly uncomfortable, his soothing voice causing my eyes to widen even further,  “I think I, um, may have accidentally taken this, er, sheet.” He raised his hand to wave around the sheet of paper that had caused Zayn and Perrie large levels of stress.

“Oh.” Zayn looked shell-shocked, his words quiet and timid as he scurried to pick the sheet out of Li’s hands. “Thanks for bringing it back.” Zayn was blushing, deep red color moving to his cheeks. It was adorable.

“Holy shit.” Harry whispered next to me, clearly appalled at the situation playing out in front of us. “I wish I could make you flustered like that.”

“You missed your call babe.” I turned to watch Zayn read over the sheet and soak in the details like he needed them to live.

“It wasn’t a problem really, I should have returned it sooner,” His laugh was timid as he ran a hand through his hair. “I only realised that I still had your form when I saw it in my passenger seat on my way home. I am truly sorry about taking it, I know you use that for financial purposes.” And he was smart sounding too. Zayn better take him now, or he may never get his chance again.

“Yeah, usually good to have in case you threaten to sue.” Zayn let out another shaky laugh, eyes fluttering to us for help. He looked pathetically flustered and I wish I had a camera to document it with.

“So, Li…” I started, moving away from Harry to step towards Li. He turned his attention to me, eyebrows turning back into their original confused state.

“It’s Liam.” He gave a small smile, “Liam Payne.” He stuck his hand out to meet mine, gripping my smaller hand with strength that seemed unneeded and frankly hurt.

“Well then, someones friendly.” I pulled back my hand and tried to ignore the throbbing my fingers had from his tight grip. He was friendly, I wouldn’t ignore that, and now that I was over fawning over him, I noticed that he was staying longer than he needed to. “So, uh, what’re you doing here?”

He faltered in his act slightly, you could see the flickering in his eyes, “I just had to return that sheet, I felt bad about holding onto it.” His smile grew as he looked over at Zayn, who was typing something into the computer with a seemingly permanent blush.

“Alright, well it was nice meeting you.” I gave an effortless smile that was void of any emotion, "Zayn probably has a lot of people to permanently etch into, you know, working hours and whatnot." Zayns eyes shot up, piercing mine with a glare fit  to rival any threat. “Don’t want to ruin his career, you know?”

"Oh yeah, of course," Liam was scuffing his feet on the floor, hands clasped together awkwardly as if waiting for some other force to intervene, "I don't think I told you, but my tattoo looks really amazing. My friend was right when he recommended you." Liam was disregarding me, but I couldn’t seem to find myself to care with the way Zayns eyes lit up at the compliment.

"What?" Zayn was floundering at the comment, "your friend recommended me? Like actually chose me out of everyone as the best?" There was a lot of competition in London for who was ‘the best’, Zayn knew firsthand the rivalry and I only from the constant complaints he gave.

“Yeah, his name’s Niall, you did something on him a while back and he couldn’t shut up about you since.”

“Can you see the flirting or is it just me?” Harry whispered into my ear, “I feel like Perrie would be having a field day with this love-fest.”

“Too bad she’s looking for the sheet that’s up here.” I threw my chin towards the paper that was resting on the computer keyboard.

“Oh, wow,” Zayn let out a labored breath, “Tell him thanks. God, tell him a thousand thanks. No ones ever called me the best before.”

“That’s not the only thing he complimented you on,” Liam continued, “He also said you were a fit bloke too. I think what he said was quite the understandment.” I turned away from Harry, gasping at the surge of confidence he had just as Harry started giggling behind me.

“What?” Zayn squeaked, eyes wide and stunned. He must have thought this was some kind of joke, a Punk’d gone small-town or whatnot.

“I just find you fit,” He drawed on, searching Zayns face for any signs of confirmation, agreement, or /anything/ other than astoundment. He was getting no such compliance, and looked to us for a second before Zayn snapped out of his trance.

“He’s gonna get some tonight.” Harry sing-songed behind me, grabbing onto my hips to steady his fits of giggles as he continued to watch the scene unravel.

“And I came back to, uh, ask you out. On a date, like, tonight.” All three of us let out collected gasps, Zayns leaning more towards a strangled breath than any sound of appalment. “That is, if, uh, you swing for my team. Because if you don’t, I can just leave.” He turned slightly towards the door and earned another strangled noise.

“No, uh… I swing for your team… I just...” He still couldn’t muster together any words, the poor boy. It was like his dreams were coming true, the hot fire-fighting kitten saviour was actually /asking him out/.

“I didn’t actually take the sheet by mistake. I had to have /some/ reason to come back.” Liam tried to use his laughter to ease Zayn up off his teenaged-girl act, only getting a small increment of success.

“You sly dog.” I patted Harry’s hip behind me to get his attention, “How come you didn’t use that trick? Could have masked your fuck up as purposeful.”

“Babe, I’m a wonky giraffe. I have no purpose, with flirting at least.” He blew air into my ear childishly, “You knew that then and you know that now.”

“That I do.” I agreed.

Zayn was looking between me and Liam with a pained expression. I tried to tell him to continue, nodding my head along for the message to get across, “I...uh...I don't…”

“He’ll go. Around seven.” I answered for him, my snap judgement earning a few noises, “You can pick him up here, we’ll have him ready.”

“Alright.” Liam kept his eyes on Zayn a moment too long before turning to acknowledge us. “Thanks, then, I guess.” Zayn was sending even more daggers my way now, even though I ignored them

“Not a problem.” I gave an easy smile. “You don’t know how equal the feelings are between the two of you.” The daggers of his eyes were now acidic, but I continued the cold-shoulder act.

“Thanks,” Liam nodded to me, walking towards the door and stalling at the door handle, “Thanks Zayn.” And with that he pushed open the door out into the chilly air. Oh, how tonight was going to be fun.

 


End file.
